


The Last Time

by netlagd



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: M/M, post-513
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-15 06:55:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3437765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/netlagd/pseuds/netlagd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><img/><br/>Banner (and beta) by the ever wonderful such_a_steph<br/>It doesn't look like Justin's coming back to Pittsburgh, so Brian has to take things into his own hands.</p><p>Timeline: Post-513 – Year 2011</p><p>Disclaimer: All characters and situations from Queer As Folk are the property of Russell T. Davies, CowLip Productions, Tony Jonas Productions, Showtime Networks Inc. and others. No copyright infringement is intended.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Last Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [karen_jk](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=karen_jk).



The last time Brian saw Justin, he didn’t know it would be the last time. If he had, would he have done anything differently? Probably not – after all, no apologies, no regrets, right?

The first time he saw Justin again, well, here’s what happened...

**_Movie Night, January 23, 2011_ **

Brian hunkered down into the only straight backed chair in the media room filled with cushy couches and overstuffed recliners courtesy of the Honeycutt-Boyd household. 

_Fuck!_ When had movie night with the happy homos replaced a Saturday evening’s entertainment of anonymous sex in the backroom of Babylon? Oh yeah, right, about a month after he’d rebuilt and reopened his playground. 

Not having Justin around kind of took the fun out of it. And without his companion, Brian found himself on what he was sure was the path to becoming the next Sap – which was worrisome to say the least. Of course, he was much better looking, and still had his hair, but he could feel the pull of sex and drugs and overindulgence. He reined himself in and limited his involvement with the club to daylight hours and oversight of the books. He’d all but washed his hands of Babylon. If it didn’t provide such a good, steady profit, he’d have dumped it four years ago when the Pittsburgh’s version of the Gay Mafia made him an offer he could refuse.

“Okay Boys and Girls… or Boys and Boys…” Emmett sang out. “Tonight’s feature is a classic!” 

Brian suppressed a moan. Was there a chance that Emmett’s version of a classic might be in black and white and feature James Dean or pre-Godfather Brando? No such luck.

Emmett whipped the plastic DVD cover from behind his lanky form and, holding it up for all to see, announced “Barbra Streisand and Robert Redford, directed by Sidney Pollack in the timeless classic _The Way We Were_!”

Ben and Michael made non-descript noises of approval, while Ted commented, “I haven’t seen that in years.”

Blake pointed out, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen it.”

“Whatever you say, babe.” The off-hand comment from Drew had Brian staring at him. Drew was heads down looking at his cell phone.

 _Well, that explained it._ Drew Boyd was probably engrossed in Angry Birds or checking out ESPN mobile.

Emmett dimmed the lights, cued up the movie and went to cuddle up with Drew.

Brian started making a mental list all the things he had to do at the Kinnetik.

The movie was mildly entertaining, saved in part by Robert Redford costumed in various uniforms and well cut clothes. He was damn good looking in his day. Not bad even now, for a crypt keeper.

Brian’s off handed “I’d do him,” was met with a chorus of “Brian!”

When he thought he couldn’t stand a minute more, the last scene appeared. Brian stared at the screen. A silent _Fuck!_ formed on his lips.

~>~>~>~>~>

The LED display of the bedside clock illuminated the otherwise pitch black room – 4:07am. Brian got up and went to the bathroom for a piss. Instead of returning to bed, he crossed the loft to the entertainment center and fumbled around for his stash. He hoped the joint wasn’t stale. He couldn’t remember the last time he bought pot, let alone smoked his own. Standing naked in front of the windows that looked down on Tremont Street, he held the joint between his lips and flicked his lighter, drawing back so the paper would light and pulling that first hit of sweet smoke into his lungs.

That damned movie. The last scene played over and over in his mind the entire drive home. Then, when he went to bed, it morphed into a black comedy of last Thursday.

Brian had been in New York City reviewing building options for Kinnetik’s New York offices. He was crossing Washington Square Park and there he was – gathering signatures for the Marriage Equality Act – looking as beautiful as the day he left in 2005.

Justin turned and saw Brian. He smiled, and putting down his fliers crossed to where Brian stood in the cold wind. He hugged Brian close and savored the scent he’d not smelled in over four years, but would never forget. 

Brian closed his eyes and drank in the headiness and comfort of the strong arms hugging him close.

“Still fighting the good fight, I see.”

“Always.” Justin reached up and pushed a lock of Brian’s hair behind his ear. “Are you in town long?”

“I fly out tonight.”

“Oh…” Justin faltered. “I guess you’re on your way to meet someone.”

“A real estate agent – Kinnetik is finally opening their New York offices.”

“Yeah, I think Mom mentioned it.”

“She did all the leg work – set up the appointments.” Brian looked at his Cartier tank watch. He was going to be late. He debated blowing off the last meeting of the day.

Justin moved aside. “Look, you’ve got to go… and I’ve got to… well, get some more signatures.”

Brian hesitated. Justin gave him a little push. “Go… people need jobs in this economy.”

Brian smiled, then rolled his lips inward. He took a step toward the park exit, but stopped and turned, “Later.”

Justin watched him. “Later,” he whispered. He crossed back to the table, and picked up his fliers. In a strong voice he announced, “You can make a difference! Sign here to support marriage rights for ALL New Yorkers.”

The entire plane ride home Brian second-guessed his choice to walk away at the park. It was what was best for Justin – for Brian to stay out of his life. The “Family” kept Brian up to date on the life Justin had in New York. Justin was enjoying moderate success. He had friends. He had boyfriends. Brian ground his teeth and signaled the flight attendant for another drink.

~>~>~>~>~>~>~>

Brian took another drag on the joint, the red tip reflected in the glass of the window. Beyond the pane, Pittsburgh looked an unpleasant gray. Light was beginning to filter through and the day was beginning.

He should have walked away before Justin saw him. He should have turned around and strode off in the opposite direction. He’d managed to stay away for four years. But like a moth to a flame, Brian was drawn to the beauty of the golden hair and sunlit smile. The only man he had ever loved… the only man he _would_ ever love. He rubbed his chest trying to assuage the deep ache he thought he had buried long ago.

He had told himself that if it was meant to be Justin would come home once he’d tested the waters… sown his wild oats… experienced the world… become a fucking success. Justin would come home… to him.

 _Fuck it!_ Brian had waited long enough. It was obvious that Justin wasn’t going to return to him. If Brian wanted him back it was up to him to make it happen. A plan started to formulate in the back of his mind…

**The second time…  
 _Knock, Knock, February 2, 2011_ **

Justin opened the door sure that it was his downstairs neighbor Tabetha with yet another boyfriend crisis.

 ** _THUD!_** He watched as a uniformed driver dropped a Louis-Vuitton trunk in the hallway next to three suitcases, a garment bag, and a couple of carry-alls.

“What the fuck?!” Justin was almost too busy examining the mountain of luggage to notice Brian leaning against the doorframe, coat over his arm, in jeans and a white button down shirt, until that scent invaded his nostrils. “Brian? What are you doing here? What is all this?”

“I’m moving in…”

“Would you like for me to store the luggage inside Mr. Kinney?”

“Thanks James, down the hall, the door on the right.”

“Brian!”

“Here.” Brian stuffed a duffle into Justin’s outstretched arms before the younger man had a chance to consider what he was doing. He gathered a rolling suitcase and picked up a small carryon and entered the apartment holding the door open for the driver.

Justin watched in sheer amazement as the driver moved the rest of the suitcases inside the doorframe before going back for the trunk and lugging it down the hall.

“Brian, what…”

“Is that all Mr. Kinney?” The driver returned and interrupted.

“For tonight. We’ll start at eight in the morning. I have a day of meetings – I’ll need you for the day, I believe Meagan arranged it.”

“Yes. I’ll be waiting downstairs in the morning. I’ll call when I get here.”

“That'll be fine.” Brian pulled a twenty from his wallet and handed it to the driver, closing the door after him.

“Brian!”

He turned around. “Justin!”

“Brian, what is going on? What is all this stuff?”

“I told you in January, we’re opening Kinnetik’s New York offices.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t explain the Louis Vuitton spring collection.”

“I thought it was obvious. I told you. I’m moving in.”

“Moving in…? What do you mean you’re moving in? You can’t just show up and move into my apartment.”

“Well, if I’m not mistaken, my name is on the co-op papers, too. What’s the big deal? Jennifer said you were between roommates… or would that be boyfriends?”  
~>~>~>~>~

“I can’t believe him!”

Dale leaned back from the bar where he’d just poured Justin a drink and waited for Justin to offer up a few more details. The bar was empty at this time in the afternoon – the lull between the lunch crowd and the after work crowd.

Dale had met Justin when they had both been looking for studio space. They ended up sharing a sunny loft space with Dale’s now girlfriend Cara just a couple of blocks shy of the more trendy part of downtown. So far they’d been able to keep up with rent increases as the neighborhood shifted from urban blight to urban renewal. They liked the space – each working in a different medium. Sometimes when they were high or drunk, sharing Chinese take out and musing about when they really hit it big, they’d discuss buying the building and opening a gallery on the ground floor.

Surprisingly, Justin wasn’t talkative. He just nursed his shot of Jim Beam and grumbled incoherently.

“Who is this guy again?”

Justin looked at Dale with exasperation. “My ex.”

 _Oh, as if that explains it._ Dale rolled his eyes. “You’re going to have to be a bit more specific, you must admit you go through boyfriends pretty regularly.”

“Not those exes, _THE_ ex.”

“Still not following.” 

“Brian!”

“Oh, that ex. So throw him out.”

“I can’t…”

“Sure you can – it’s your apartment.”

“Not technically,” Justin mumbled.

“Huh?”

“I said, not technically – his name is on the mortgage.”

“I thought you rented.”

“Brian use to visit me early on when I moved to NY. He didn’t like my first place, so we made a deal. He bought a co-op, he paid the mortgage and I paid the maintenance fees.”

“I always wondered how you afforded such a nice place – but you always seemed to have a roommate so I figured you were splitting expenses.”

“We were supposed to share it – Brian and me, so I relented. After all, he’d be visiting me regularly. Except…”

“Except?”

“He didn’t. He was building his agency. I was always working or painting, trying to make ends meet. We got busy. The visits became less frequent, the phone calls became less frequent, the emails became less frequent. Eventually they didn’t come at all. We drifted apart. We didn’t communicate.”

“So? Who broke things off?”

Justin felt a smile pull at the corner of his mouth. “That’s the thing. We didn’t really break it off. It just kind of …” he gestured with his hand.

“Well, you don’t have a roommate now, can’t you just let him stay in the second bedroom. I mean that seems like it might be a solution. Weren’t you saying you were going to have to get a new roommate now that Braden was gone?”

 _Braden_ Justin cringed. What had he been thinking? 

“Was that for Brian? … or Braden?”

Justin reddened slightly and mumbled, “Braden.”

“Yeah, what were you thinking?”

Justin dropped his head to the bar, then lifted it slightly and dropped it again.

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up. He’s gone… wherever slimy vermin go.”

“My life’s a mess.”

“So? Time for a change – I believe he’s waiting back at your apartment.”

~>~>~>~>~>~>

“Hello?” Brian answered the phone like he lived there – which he now he did, or at least until a certain blond threw him out.

“Brian?” 

Brian smiled as he recognized Daphne’s voice on the other end. “None other.”

“What are you doing answering Justin’s phone? Never mind, can I speak to Justin?”

“He, uh, ran out for something?”

“When will he be back?”

“He didn’t really say.”

“He just ran out?”

“Well, he didn’t really run, just walked out and slammed the door. Actually, it was one of his more reserved drama princess moments.”

Daphne’s brow wrinkled. “What exactly are you doing there?”

“In New York or at the apartment?”

“Either. Just fill me in on what you have planned – you do have something planned, don’t you?”

“Daphne, Daphne, do you think I’d come all this way and not have a plan?”

“Spill!”

Brian filled her in on what he had up his sleeve.

“So how long are you planning on staying? I mean, I’m the first to admit it’s fun to fuck with Justin. But he is my best friend. So if you’re planning on dropping off the face of the earth like last time, you should enjoy your little mind fuck and haul all your crap back to the limo and head back to the airport tomorrow.”

“Ms. Chanders, I’m wounded! ... was that a snort?”

“I do not snort.”

“I believe you are lying, I definitely heard a snort.”

Daphne changed the subject. “So what are you planning for Kinnetik’s new offices?”

TBC


	2. New York, February

**_New York, February 19, 2011_ **

Brian and Justin came to an uneasy truce regarding sharing the apartment over the course of the first couple of weeks of February.

After insinuating himself in the apartment, Brian had surprisingly not made any overtures toward his blond boy wonder. Justin wasn’t sure what Brian was up to, but knew better than to let his guard down. He took to spending hours at the studio where he was quite productive. 

Of course, Brian wasn’t about to reveal his hand to his estranged lover. Instead, Brian had taken up residence in the second bedroom. He installed a practical and aesthetically pleasing office wall unit that covered the east and south walls and included a desk, optimized storage and a remarkably comfortable Murphy bed. Beyond that, Brian was biding his time. The Kinnetik offices weren't scheduled to officially open until May – nicely coinciding with the 2011 Clio Awards, several of which he expected to be taking home. That gave him three months – give or take – to do damage.

Generally, Brian was in town three to five days a week. He made sure to vary his appointments and his schedule sufficiently to keep Justin on his toes. But he also made sure to post his itinerary on the fridge so Justin couldn’t complain that he didn’t know what was going on or when Brian may pop in. 

“He’s driving me up the wall, Daph!”

“Hmmm? What’s he do, leave his underwear lying around? Oh, no. I forgot, that’s what _you_ do.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake! Let it go – that was like three years ago! I’m sorry a pair of underwear offended your delicate your sensibilities!”

“They were stuffed into the sofa cushions! And it wasn’t like they were left accidentally there from folding clean laundry, so like, eww. So what’s Brian up to that has you queening out?”

“He’s everywhere!”

“I thought you said he’d taken over the second bedroom and kept pretty much to himself.”

“He has, but he… he parades around naked when he’s using the bathroom or kitchen! I never know when he’s going to pop up… stop giggling, that wasn’t meant to be funny… And his soap, the bathroom smells like his freaking French milled soap! And the whole apartment smells like… like…”

“Brian?”

There was silence on Justin’s end, then a very quiet, miserable cry, “Yes.”

“You can’t let him get to you.”

“You don’t understand. I dream about him, I smell him even when he’s not here. And when he’s here… fuck! He looks so damned good… he was beautiful before… but now, there’s this hint of grey at his temples and he wears these sexy reading glasses that… oh fuck! He’s got to go.”

“Or you can just creep into his room tonight and jump his bones.”

“Don’t think it hasn’t crossed my mind… Fuck, Daph, I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“Did he tell you how long he plans on staying?”

“Wedontreallytalk” Justin mumbled.

“What?”

Justin sighed. “We don’t really talk.”

“Justin, he’s been there nearly a month – what do you mean you don’t talk?”

“He posts his schedule on the fridge – I’ve been avoiding him.”

“I thought you said he was everywhere, that he was walking around naked.”

“Um, yeah, well that’s usually late at night after I come home from the studio or work. I try to stay out of his way.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake! What the hell is the matter with you? Tell him to put some clothes on! Tell him you need some answers regarding his intent to use the apartment. When’s the last time you brought home a date? For that matter, when’s the last time you got laid?”

“I can’t bring people home!...”

“Of course you can! It’s your home, too.”

Justin rubbed a hand over his face. “You don’t understand…”

“What? You had your boyfriends living with you in that apartment…”

“But Brian wasn’t here…”

“Well, maybe he should see you with someone. You know, show him you have a life.”

“I don’t have a life – I don’t want a life with some guy.” Justin got very quiet. “I want Brian.”

Daphne was really happy this conversation was on the phone rather than Skype. A huge smile broke across her face and she triumphantly punched her fist in the air!

“Then I have only one question for you - _What’cha gonna do?_ ”

~>~>~>~>~>~>~>

**_New York, February 27, 2011_ **

Justin needed a plan. As it turned out Brian was required in Pittsburgh over the following week, which gave Justin an unexpected but welcome reprieve. Unfortunately, overly loud construction had begun in the building where he shared studio space with Dale and Cara. The constant whir of machinery made it very difficult for Justin to concentrate on his art, let alone formulate a plan of action where Brian was concerned.

Over the past few weeks, there had been work crews in and out of the building. The elevator, which had been in poor repair, was now working. The light fixtures in the hallways and stairwells had been repaired – or maybe just cleaned and the bulbs replaced. The walls in the common areas had been washed and the trash that seemed to constantly litter the floor disappeared. Best of all, the heat which seemed to work only on alternate days had been functioning every day for the past week.

“So what do you think is going on?” Cara stood by the window with a cup of coffee and looked out at the street below.

“What’s that, babe?” Dale was smoothing clay over a bust he was working on.

“Huh?” was Justin’s reaction – he was engrossed in a large canvas.

“Haven’t you guys noticed the changes going on around here? The construction? …the lack of our former neighbors? No more Toothless Joe and Shopping bag Mary? How things are clean and functioning?”

“Kind of nice,” Dale murmured. It was obvious his focus wasn’t on the conversation.

“Guys! This is important! I can’t afford another raise in rent!”

That got Justin’s attention. “Who says they’re raising our rent?”

“We’ve been here nearly six years. Every year they’ve raised our rent – without doing any improvements or maintenance. Open your eyes! Things suddenly are working. Our neighbors have disappeared. The halls are cleaner, the repairs? It all costs money. No landlord is going to do that out of the goodness of their heart and not expect something.”

“Fuck!” Justin stabbed his paintbrush into a can of turpentine. “They’re going to throw us out.”

“Wait a minute, wait a minute!” Dale tried to be the voice of reason. “We have a lease, they can’t throw us out.”

“Our lease is up in July, all they have to do is give us two months notice.” Justin countered.

“Don’t borrow trouble. I’ll call the leasing office and find out what is going on.” Dale placed a damp cloth over the sculpture he was working on. Grabbing his phone, a pen and paper, Dale headed to the fire escape for a better signal. Justin was happy to leave it in Dale’s capable hands he already had a real estate headache of his own.

Cara watched worriedly as Dale dialed, spoke, then hung up only to dial again. She counted five separate phone calls before he seemed to have a conversation of any length.

Justin pushed her coat into her arms as he shrugged on his own winter jacket. “C’mon, let’s go pick up some lunch – give Dale some time to talk to folks and figure out what’s going on.”

~>~>~>~>~>

 **Necessity is the Mother of Invention  
 _New York, March 5, 2011_**  
Brian returned to New York the following week. Opening the door, he picked up his briefcase and suitbag and walked in, intent on heading to his room. Unfortunately, he was caught unaware by the changes in the living room furniture placement establishing a new traffic pattern. It seemed someone had rearranged the furniture while he was gone. Without warning, Brian’s foot caught the edge of an area rug and he found himself face down on the sofa.

“What the fuck!?”

“Oh, Brian, hey, wow! Look at the time. I totally lost track.” Justin looked up from a canvas he was working on. The large frame took up most of the central space of the living area. Instead of the inviting groupings of chairs, loveseat and sofa, all the furniture was now pushed up against walls to make room for canvases, art supplies, paint and tools. 

“What’s all this?” mentally adding _shit_ to the question. Brian bit his tongue to stop himself from speaking the word out loud. He would never intentionally insult Justin’s talent no matter how cruel he could be on other levels. He righted himself on the sofa and returned to the doorway to set his luggage aside, retrieve his keys and bolt the locks.

“They’re doing construction in the building where we have our studio…”

“Did they throw you out?” Brian seemed overly angry at the thought Justin has lost his studio space.

Justin laughed, “No, nothing like that. We actually have had some good luck regarding the studio. Some company has bought the building and is renovating the space. Dale called and they confirmed they’d be renewing our lease - without an increase in rent. We’re lucky they’re not planning on throwing us out. By the looks of things, when they get done it’s going to be quite a showplace.”

“So what the fuck are you doing painting here? There’s got to be better light,” Brian sniffed the air heavy with paint and turpentine, “…and ventilation at your studio.”

“It’s the construction. It’s super noisy – really hard to concentrate.”

“So how long are you planning to be working out of here? I hope they’re not charging you rent while you can’t use the space.”

Justin chuckled, “I’ll have to ask Dale about that – he’s been the one talking to the leasing agent. I’m guessing it will be a couple of weeks. They seem to be working floor by floor. Our studio’s on the fifth floor. Most of the work seems to be going on below us. They're fixing up office space – needs to be ready for move in by May. At least, that’s what one of the construction guys said. After that they're converting the floor above us to residential and the ground floor is being set up for retail. With the way the neighborhood’s moving, maybe they’ll put in a Starbucks!”

Brian rolled his eyes and muttered, “Over my dead body”. 

“What was that?”

“I said, isn’t $4 for a cup of coffee a bit steep for a starving artist?”

Brian rose from the couch and gathered his suitcase and briefcase and headed to his room. He hid his smile. It seemed that activities at the new Kinnetik offices were proceeding as scheduled. He had just stepped inside his room when Justin called out to him.

“Hey Brian, I’m hungry. I’m going to order some Thai – want to join me? We can split it – you can help out the starving artist!”

And that’s when it all began.  
~>~>~>~>~>~>  
TBC


	3. Beware the Ides of March

**Beware the Ides of March  
 _New York, March 15, 2011_**

Dinner with Justin turned into a nightly occurrence when Brian was in town. They easily slipped into the comfortable and friendly habit of sharing a meal, talking about their respective days. They discussed the news, music, art, business. It was all very… civilized.

The only problem was that neither Justin nor Brian were feeling very civilized. Quite the opposite, the more they engaged in polite conversation, the harder they had to work at not jumping each other.

For Justin, this resulted in late night calls to Daphne to exorcise his demons. For Brian, it was showers where he relived some of his fondest memories of Justin.

“Daphne, I’m going crazy.”

“What do you mean going?”

“Ha. Ha. He’s driving me up the wall. Tonight at dinner, he was eating Pad Thai, and he had this noodle slip…”

“Nipple slip?...”

“No! Noodle! He was using chopsticks and he was taking a bite of his Pad Thai, and instead of the noodle going into his mouth, it kind of lay on the edge then slipped out…

“Ewww… gross…”

“No, it wasn’t. The noodle kind of lay on his lip for a second and instead of using the chopsticks, his tongue darted out and pulled it into his mouth, then he licked his lips…

“Seriously, when was the last time you were laid? Go out to a bar, pick someone up and fuck – you need it.”

“Daph! I don’t want some trick. What am I going to do?”

“Justin…”

“Yeah?”

“Are you listening to me?”

“Yeah…”

“Where are you?”

“Duh, in my room on the phone with you.”

“Where’s Brian.”

“Taking a shower – why else do you think I called you? It’s like the only time I can talk about this without him overhearing.”

“Good.”

“Good?”

“Yes. I want you to do exactly what I tell you…”

So Justin did just that.

“I don’t think this is a good idea…”

“Stop thinking! You’ve done nothing but overthink this entire issue – now go!”

“Okay, I’m going…”

“And don’t forget the condoms and lube!”

Justin rolled his eyes.

“And I want details when it’s all over.”

“I’m hanging up now…”

~>~>~>~>~>~>

Justin silently swung the bathroom door open and stopped at the threshold. 

Brian felt a breeze flutter the shower curtain – he missed his shower at the loft. The one down side of the NY apartment was the boring, staid shower over tub bathtub. It was one of the things on his list to change that he had never got around to. Brian turned the hot water up a bit to compensate for the sudden chill in the room. 

Now where was he? _Ah yes, Justin, the hotel room, ‘Need Help’?_ Brian grasped his cock a little firmer and increased the speed as he ran his fist along his shaft.

Justin stepped into the bathroom, naked – his bare feet made no sound on the smooth tile floor. Brian was silhouetted against the blue shower curtain; his activities readily apparent. Justin swallowed audibly; perhaps this wasn’t the best of ideas.

“Hello?” Brian pulled the curtain aside, his eyes met Justin’s, then dropped to take in one hand clutching a short strip of condoms, the other a small tube of lube. Brian’s glance shifted to Justin’s burgeoning hard-on, then up to his face. Brian bit back the smartass remark he was about to make and instead held the curtain aside leaving himself as naked and vulnerable as Justin. “Join me?”

Justin nodded slowly and crossed the floor with slight hesitation.

“I’ll take those.” Brian relieved Justin of the condoms and lube and stashed them on a shelf before grasping Justin’s hand and helping him into the tub.

As their bodies met, Brian looked into Justin’s eyes. The years of separation slipped away. Before him was the boy he helped to shape into a man. Justin’s face revealed the same emotions as those he felt so many years ago at the loft – fear, excitement.

Brian lowered his head until their lips met. His tongue painted along the seam of Justin’s lips pressuring them to open and accept him. Justin sighed and melted against Brian. Warm water rained down upon them but neither paid attention. 

Justin twisted his head trying to fit Brian’s lips tighter to his. Opening his mouth wider, he pressed closer to Brian. The term devour took on a whole new meaning. The floodgates certainly had opened. 

Hands grapple to pull each other closer – their bodies slick with water made it difficult to hold on. Justin wasn’t sure who was more anxious, himself or Brian – until Brian shoved him up against the tiled wall and pins his arms overhead.

Justin looked up quizzically into the depths of Brian’s hazel eyes. Brian’s bold stare burned into Justin’s soul. His eyes rake down the unmarred, pale skin of Justin body. Justin smiled slyly and bucked a little, trying to get his hips and legs to make contact with Brian.

“Wait!”

Justin raised an eyebrow. He was in no mood to be patient.

“Fuck, I wish we were back at the loft. This shower sucks.” 

Justin twisted away and moved to his knees. “Not only the shower.” Grasping Brian’s hips, he opened his mouth and engulfed him. Brian closed his eyes and feathered fingers through Justin’s wet locks. 

Justin had missed this so much – the warmth and intimacy of the act of service to the man he loved. He pulled off to bury his nose in Brian’s pubs, nuzzling the crease where his leg joined his torso, then dipped lower to kiss and lick the tender skin that covered Brian’s balls. Justin took extra pains to pay homage equally to both Brian’s remaining testicle as well as the sack that covered the prosthesis. And even as all this was going on, Justin’s hands smoothed across Brian’s hips to cup Brian’s cheeks and lightly play with skin along the crack and pucker of his ass.

“Christ I’ve missed this; I’ve missed you. God, Justin, no one knows my body like you do.” Enough with the confessions, Brian leaned down to help raise Justin up. “There isn’t enough room in here for what I want to do to you.”

They managed to remove themselves from the tub and dry off in the postage size bathroom. 

“Whose room?” Brian asked.

“Mine – the bed’s bigger.” Justin moved to grab the condoms and lube.

Brian looked at the contents of Justin’s hands. 

Justin shrugged, “They’re all I have.”

Brian ducked into his room before joining Justin. 

Justin lay on the bed, but rose up to his knees as Brian approached. Brian tossed his box of condoms onto the bed and pulled Justin close for a searing kiss.

Together, they fell to the bed, the mattress bouncing lightly beneath their weight. They each might have thought to savor their reunion but that moment had passed. They’d waited too long for this. Brian marked Justin’s pale skin with bruising kisses. Justin pawed and scratched, pulling Brian closer, rutting against the weight upon him.

“Dammit Brian! Stop teasing.”

Brian pulled back and gave a feral smile, his fingers already seeking the soft fold of skin surrounding Justin’s hole. He grabbed for the lube and transferred a bit to his fingers, then returned to Justin’s ass.

Justin’s sharp intake of breath and “shit, that’s cold!” took Brian back to their first time.

“It’ll warm up.” And with that, the rush was calmed. Brian prepared Justin carefully. With his other hand he reached for a condom, tearing the package corner with his teeth, and sheathing himself with economic movements.

Brian looked down at Justin. _So long, so very long… too long._ Like time stood still even though it had rushed by. How was it possible that they could just pick up like no time had passed? Justin’s eyes were closed, his mouth opened only a fraction. Breathy little moans, sexy as hell, echoed the sensory assault on his body. Brian leaned in for a kiss and felt the undulation of his partner as his fingers brought Justin to the edge time and time again.

As Brian withdrew his fingers, Justin’s eyes blinked opened; a short grumble revealed his discontent.

“Shhhh…” Brian soothed, shifting himself between Justin’s legs, cupping his ass and lifting Justin so that his cock head teased at his entrance.

Justin closed his eyes once more and grasped Brian’s forearm. “Go… slow… it’s been a while.”

Brian lodged himself against Justin, pushing and retreating until he gained entrance. He leaned forward and with his forehead against Justin’s, he said, “For me, too.”

They lay there for a few minutes, their bodies re-familiarizing themselves with one another. Justin nudged Brian, and he pushed deeper until he was fully home.

Brian could feel Justin’s smile as it broke across his face, he opened his lips and began a steady invasion of Justin’s mouth in time with his every stroke. Justin relished every movement in and out of his body – the hard cock pushing deeper, grazing that sweet bundle of nerves; their tongues as they tasted one another or swiped along the smooth teeth.

Eventually, inevitably, Justin could hold back no longer. His hand reached between their bodies, and Brian covered Justin’s hand with his own. The heat of Justin’s cock in his hand drove Brian to thrust faster, deeper. Finally Justin could no longer contain himself and he dissolved, spraying creamy strings of cum between their bodies. The eruption set off a chain reaction and Brian was soon emptying himself into the meager latex vessel that was the only barrier between himself and Justin.

They lay there, fused together, chests heaving, contented smiles on their faces. As their breaths steadied, they shift along side one another, separating briefly for Brian to dispose of the condom, then shifting together in a familiar pose – Justin’s back along Brian’s chest, Brian’s arm possessively holding Justin near.

A rumbling chuckle reverberated along Justin’s chest and Brian shifted once more so he could look down at his partner.

“I guess it really is true.” Justin laughed happily.

Brian raised an eyebrow.

“It is like riding a bicycle.”

Brian hrumphed.

Justin petted his arm. “Don’t worry, you’re a Cervélo - sleek, expensive, engineered for endurance. You take home the prize and win every race.”

“Flattery will get you fucked.”

“I was hoping that might be the case.” Justin turned in Brian’s arms, pushing him onto his back. “Lean back, I’ll make sure you enjoy the ride as much as I plan to.”  
~>~>~>~>~>~>  
TBC


	4. April Fool

**April Fool**   
_March 31, 2011_

It was inevitable. Even Brian and Justin knew they could not sustain on sex alone. Eventually real life would intervene and they would have to address their life beyond the bedroom, even if it did take them two weeks to get there.

They really hadn’t changed their routine all that much beyond now being able to enjoy each other fully whenever they were so inclined. They managed to keep some appearance of work; Brian retreating to his bedroom/office to participate in conference calls and work on projects while Justin continued to work on his art in the living area.

Of course, Brian would patter out for a bottle of water, or Justin would need to borrow an eraser which would lead to quick fuck or blow job, but 30 minutes later they’d be back working hard with renewed enthusiasm.

Fourteen blissful days.

Dale called to let Justin know that the majority of “noisy” construction had been completed and that the month of April would be limited to quieter activities like painting, laying carpet and moving in furniture for the new offices.

…

Justin leaned on the doorjam to Brian’s office/bedroom as he waited to give Brian the good news.

“Stan, that’s great – and ahead of schedule. I can be there in about 45 minutes. We can talk further then.” Brian hung up, turned around and noticed Justin. “Fuck, if I’d known you were there I would have told him an hour and a half.”

Justin smirked. “No rest for the wicked! You have good news, I have good news. Sounds like we’re both having a great day.”

“By all means, tell me your good news.”

“Dale called, he told me that the majority of construction is complete – I can move my stuff back to the studio and go back to working there – no more tripping over furniture, no more turpentine fumes smelling up the place.”

“That is good news. The work crew on the new Kinnetik offices have wrapped up much of their work, I need to go down and do a walk-thru and sign off on this phase.”

Justin crossed and straddled Brian’s lap.

“So I guess you’ve got to go out… right now.” He rubbed against Brian, eliciting the response he expected. Justin dipped his head and painted Brian’s lips with his tongue before parting his lips in a deep kiss.

“Fuck!” Brian pressed a quick kiss to Justin’s lips then unceremoniously dumped him on the floor.

“Brian!” Justin stood up rubbing his ass.

“That’s what you get for being a tease when you know I need to get to a meeting.” Brian hauled Justin in for a kiss. “And for messing up my suit…” Another searing kiss. “And for fucking up the lines by giving me this stupid boner.” 

Justin rubbed up against him. “I can take care of that for you.”

Brian pushed him away. “Not unless you want to give the cab driver an eyeful – no time.” Brian swatted at Justin’s ass. “I’ll punish you later.”

“Promises, promises.”

~>~>~>~>~>

Brian was exceedingly pleased with the work that had been completed so far in the Kinnetik building. He’d been told nightmare stories about working with New York unions and had thoroughly expected to have to spend extra cash to get the project completed on time.

However, a winning ad campaign for a national construction company helped to smooth the waters and provide him with excellent resources and great sub-contractors. When all the work was complete, Brian fully expected the new Kinnetik building to take center stage in several portfolios from plumbers, to electricians to interior designers.

The walk-thru reinforced that he had chosen well. The open office plan left little place to hide any shortcuts. He’d made significant savings by having the electrician pull the necessary computer wiring under the watchful eye of his Pittsburgh IT company, and this left them a month to finish out the rest of the work – mostly interior design.

Brian was happy as he called his interior designer to let her know they could move up work by a week. He scheduled a meeting the following day to run down the project with her. 

~>~>~>~>~>

April first started the best way possible, with a slow grinding fuck in Justin’s plenty big enough bed. 

Dressed in his best Armani, Brian kissed Justin thoroughly and headed off to his day’s meetings.

Now that the move in date for the new offices was in sight, Cynthia and he could start seriously interviewing for staff. Brian had already earmarked a few potential candidates from the Pittsburgh office who had indicated interest in working for Kinnetik New York. He’d spent some time over the last couple of months networking and meeting with New York insiders, getting to know whom he may want to poach from the competition, and being able to look at potential candidates over a longer term to know who he definitely did not want.

If things went as planned with Justin, he’d be spending the majority of his time at the New York office, leaving Cynthia and Ted to lead in Pittsburgh.

His final appointment of the day was with Grace Mathisen his interior designer. As luck would have it she was running late. But Brian took the opportunity to speak with Stan about what he had planned for the sixth floor and rooftop, as well as the timeline for the street level retail space.  
…

Brian’s meeting with Grace went off without a hitch. She arrived with her head fully engaged in his project. The two hours he allotted for the meeting was more than sufficient time. Her work crew would be starting in the next week, with furnishings moving in the last week of April. Everything was on or ahead of schedule. He was even able to set up a time for them both to meet with Stan to get started on the residence renovation.

Brian walked Grace out to the hall where he waited with her for the elevator. Everything was falling in line perfectly.

The ringing tone announced the arrival of the elevator. Brian had been so busy with Grace that he failed to note that the elevator was descending. The doors opened and Brian came face to face with Justin.

“Brian.” Surprise was evident in Justin’s tone.

Brian knew better than to imagine there wouldn’t be hell to pay later, but quickly smoothed things over by pulling Justin out of the elevator and introducing him to Grace.

“This is one of the artists who are using the studio space on the fifth floor. Grace, I’d like to introduce Justin Taylor. Justin, this is Grace Mathisen. She’s the interior designer for the Kinnetik New York offices.”

Justin wanted to ask a thousand questions, but his country club manners kicked in. He extended his hand to politely shake Grace’s soft and neatly manicured one.

“Justin Taylor, yes! I’ve seen several of your paintings at Kinnetik’s Pittsburgh offices and Brian has spoken highly about you and the other artists occupying the fifth floor. The building is really a renaissance space – office, retail, studio, residence. I’d love a tour of your studio. I’m still looking for some key pieces for the offices here. I’d love to see what you have and talk to you about commissions for my other clients as well.” 

Before Justin had a chance to answer, Grace’s cell phone beeped. “Oh dear, look at the time – I’ve been running late all day. I must go, but,” Grace pulled a card from her purse. “Please call me and we'll set up a time to see your work.” 

She punched the elevator button and the doors magically separated.

“So nice to meet you!” 

And as if on cue, the doors closed leaving Justin and Brian in the hall outside Kinnetik’s new offices.

“Want a tour?” Brian kept a mask on his face, but inwardly was cringing. This wasn’t the way he wanted to break the news to Justin. On the other hand, Justin’s face was a sea of emotion. He’d never been adept at keeping his feelings unexposed.

“What the fuck, Brian! When were you going to bother to tell me?” Justin’s voice was surprisingly low. Brian knew that meant danger. “Why after all these years do you pull a stunt like this? Did you think you needed to bail me out? That I couldn’t make it on my own? You subsidize my apartment and now you subsidize my studio? _‘Poor little Justin, can’t make it on his own, needs to have his white knight ride in on a wave of cash.’_

“Well, in case you’ve missed it, I’ve survived pretty well on my own for the last six years. I don’t need your charity. I don’t need you to buy the frigging building my studio is in or get your interior designer to commission a painting so I can make the next maintenance fee. Fuck you, Brian! Fuck you.” 

Justin stomped down the hall to the stairwell.

Brian rubbed his palms over his eyes.

“That went well.” Dale offered from where he was leaning against the wall.

“Who the fuck are you?”

Dale extended his hand. “I’m Dale, one of your tenants. I’ve been the one talking to the building manager. I started to put it all together today and thought it was time we met. You may want to be nice to me, because out of the two of us, I’m betting that I’m the only one Justin is likely to be listening to any time soon. I’m on my way to my part-time gig. If you want, you can come with me.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

“Because Justin will listen to me… and I work as a bartender.”

Brian let his shoulders slump in defeat. “Why the fuck not?” 

~>~>~>~>~>

It was late when Brian arrived home. He made every effort to be as quiet as possible, but after nearly a bottle of Beam he’d basically lost most of his ability to be discreet. 

Dale had poured drinks and chatted amenably with Brian who listened without saying a word until about the halfway mark on his bottle. After that, Dale could hardly get Brian to shut up. Finally, Dale poured Brian into a cab and gave the cabbie $40 to insure Brian got home safely and into his building.

Brian knew better than to expect he’d be welcome in Justin’s bed. In his room, he divested himself of his suit, stripping naked, then went to use the bathroom. He wasn’t drunk enough to forget to brush his teeth and snag some aspirin from the medicine chest before heading to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. 

In the kitchen, by the light of the fridge, Brian downed the aspirin and chased it with the water.

“Fuck, even fall down drunk you’re still beautiful.” Justin used his shoulder to push himself upright from where he was leaning on the hallway wall. “And surprisingly, you don’t smell of drugs, tricks or cigarettes.”

“You can thank your friend Dale for that. He interceded, or I have no doubt I’d be at Splash working on some prime time Kinney pain management. As it is, about all I can do is fall into bed and hope that things are better in the morning.”

“C’mon big boy.” Justin held out his hand to Brian.

Brian gave him a skeptical look.

“You have no idea how fucking angry I was – am. But it isn’t going to do either of us any good tonight.”

Brian pulled back as they passed is bedroom door. “You’re not going to make me sleep in my own bed?”

“I should, just to teach you a lesson. But in the long run, the only person I’d be punishing is myself. Oh, no, I have something much more painful in mind, and I need you sober to exact all the damage I plan.”

In his befuddled state, Brian didn’t really acknowledge the threat in those words. All he could see was he got to sleep in the same bed as Justin, so things were looking pretty good. And while the spirit may have been willing, the moment Brian’s head met the pillow he was out like a light.

~>~>~>~>~>

Brian woke to an empty bed the following morning. On the table next to the bed was a pot, a bottle of water and two aspirin. He took the aspirin, downed half the bottle of water, got up to take a piss, and returned to bed to doze until noon.  
~>~>~>~>~>~>  
TBC


	5. Talk to Me

**Talk to Me  
 _Summer 2011_**

While much of his first year of knowing Justin was spent trying to get him to shut up, it was ironic that Brian spent much of the summer ten years later trying to get Justin to speak to him again. 

“How long do you think you can keep this up?”

Justin sighed. “I don’t know Daph. It’s been nearly four months. It all started as a bit of a joke. Use him for sex but ignore him otherwise.” Justin snorted a laugh. “Kind of reminds me a bit of when we first met.”

“Only this time _you’re_ the one using _him_ for sex.”

“Well, it started out that way, now it’s kind of a test of will.”

“I don’t know why Brian hasn’t just walked out – I would.”

“I think he was tempted a few times, but now I think he sees it as a challenge – which one of us will give up first. I know he’s sorry for not telling me about the building – but he’ll never say it. No apologies and all that. And I know I jumped to conclusions about him feeling the need to bail me out. What I can’t figure out is why he did it in the first place.”

On the other end of the line, Daphne rolled her eyes. Only Justin and Brian could be such a train wreck. She seriously needed to call Brian.  
~>~>~>~>~>

**The Dog Days of August  
 _Summer 2011_**

“What to do you mean he moved out?”

“When I got in last night he wasn’t here. There was an envelope on the fridge with a note saying he’s moved into the penthouse at the Kinnetik New York building.”

“So, that’s kind of good… isn’t it?”

“There was a document with the letter. He’s offering for me to buy out his half of the co-op, otherwise, he plans to put it on the market in January. January!”

“January? I know, what’s he thinking? That’s an awful time to sell.”

“Daphne, focus, I’m going to lose him, and I don’t think there’s going to be a next time.”

“Okay, I have an idea, but it may take some time.”

“I don’t have time, I have four months.”

~>~>~>~>~>~>  
 **See You in September  
 _September 2011_**

“… and a Mr. Taylor from the studio space on five requested an appointment with you at 6pm.”

“Taylor?” Brian’s eyebrows rose slightly. Curious. “Go ahead and set it up Meagan.”  
…

Brian was reading a report when Justin knocked on his door. Brian looked up to see him in a brown cashmere sweater he’d given him years ago. Paint covered cargo paints revealed that Justin had come from his studio. The sweater dressed up the work clothes including the non-descript black t-shirt displayed in the v-neck of the sweater.

“Taylor… come in… sit down,” Brian gestured to the chair in front of his desk. He closed his laptop. “You wanted to see me?”

Justin settled into the offered chair. “I gave it some thought – I decided you should take me back.”

“Oh?”

“Even though I have made a few mistakes, I think you’d be making an even bigger one not to give me a second chance.”

“I see”

“'Cause now I understand what it is you want of me… and I know what I can expect from you.”

Brian drew in a deep breath. “You also understand that you will be required to work long, hard hours sometimes deep into the night?”

“It’ll be a pleasure to work under you… sir.”

“Good… Well then…” Brian came around his desk and leaning back he looked down at Justin in the chair. “…you can start immediately.”

Justin rose to close the door, but Brian’s hand stayed the movement.

“I don’t believe you’ve seen the sixth floor.”

A smile tugged at Justin’s lips. Cooley he replied, “No, I haven’t had the pleasure.”

Brian grinned down at him. “When it comes to working _long and hard_ into the night, I’m sure you’ll find it superior to my office.”

Justin quirked and eyebrow, “Really? Because your sofa looks pretty comfort…”

He was cut off as Brian pulled him closer by his belt, and swooped in for a heart-stopping kiss.

~>~>~>~>~>~>

Justin let Brian set the pace for this phase of their relationship. Any trepidation he had Justin vented in late night calls to Daphne on the few nights he and Brian spent apart.

“God you look hot.” Justin lay in the huge king sized bed that dominated the bedroom of the sixth floor penthouse. He was watching Brian dress for day.

“Why thank you, good sir.” Brian bent to kiss him.

Justin felt heat rise on his face. “Um, I didn’t mean to say that.”

“What?! I don’t look hot?” Brian cringed in mock horror.

“No!” Justin laughed. “Of course you look hot – you always look hot. I mean, I didn’t mean to say that out loud, I was thinking it.” He gave a huge yawn, which was followed by a rumbling of his stomach. “I’m just dead tired. I feel like I haven’t slept in days…”

“Well, pardon me for keeping you up.” Justin threw a pillow at Brian, which he easily dodged. “Hey, watch the suit.”

“No, that isn’t what I mean. Between finishing up that huge commission, spending nights here, and running back and forth between here and the apartment to get clothes and such, I’m a bit worn out.” As if to emphasize the fact, a huge yawn overtook him. Justin wrapped the sheet tighter around himself and burrowed under the covers. “I had planned on spending the day in bed,” he said in a sleepy voice.

“There is nothing I would like better than to spend the day in bed with you…”

“I…” Another huge yawn, “didn’t exactly mean it that way.” Yawn. “I meant I want to spend the day in bed sleeping.” Justin made a half-hearted attempt to leave his warm cocoon.

Brian crossed to him and kissed him then gently shoved him back down on the bed. “Stay. Sleep.”

Justin yawned and rubbed at his eyes. “Really?”

“Really.” Brian pulled on his jacket and leaned down to kiss Justin on the forehead. “Later.”

“Mmm, later.” Justin murmured already half asleep.

~>~>~>~>~>

The next time Justin awoke the sun was shining. He panicked momentarily before remembering he was at the penthouse. He got up and took a shower, brushed his teeth. He wished he’d had some clean clothes to wear. Instead, he opted for wearing Brian’s silk robe. The soft fabric felt great against his skin. 

Justin padded to the kitchen to see if there was anything in the fridge. He wasn’t surprised that the state of the art refrigerator boasted little in terms of contents – some things never changed. There was the familiar Guava Juice, low-fat milk and a couple of yogurts. There were the requisite pieces of fruit – some apples, a couple pears and an orange. And staples like coffee, sugar, chocolate syrup and a can of Redi-Whip. _Hmm, that could prove fun for later._

What was surprising to Justin was what he found in the cupboards – all his favorites. Double stuff Oreos, Captain Crunch, Macadamia nuts, Leonidas Chocolates, Hungry Jack Pancake & Waffle mix, and real maple syrup.

“Aw man, I could really go for a waffle.” He decided to look in the freezer. _Jackpot! Sweet!_ Frozen waffles – multi-grain. Justin frowned, _healthy frozen waffles? Not when he got through with them._ He looked around for a toaster, but resigned himself to using the Cuisinart toaster oven.

Justin surprisingly found butter when he rummaged around further and continued to explore the kitchen as he happily munched on his waffle. Once finished he cleaned up and rinsed his hands. 

Justin hadn’t spent much time at the penthouse anywhere else than the master bedroom, and he had certainly never been alone in Brian’s new home. It was reminiscent of the loft in Pittsburgh with its open floor plan and sleek modern furniture. Yet, it seemed like much more of a home that the loft – the fuckpad vibe was missing. 

The east side contained the dining and entertaining space, which spilled into the central living space. A freestanding wall between two building columns created a hall along the north side hiding rooms he had yet to explore. The wall also provided storage for a media and entertainment center, and showcased a few strategically placed artworks. A large flat screen TV was cleverly disguised behind an equally large canvas that shifted up to allow for viewing. Brian had stated he’d much rather look at art than a blank TV, and since it was one of Justin’s works, he’d been flattered.

Justin crossed the room, drawn to one particular small sculpture – a work in smooth and highly polished white marble and black onyx. Though abstract in design, it reminded Justin of himself and Brian. He wondered if Brian was reminded of them as well when he saw the piece. Justin turned it over and wasn’t overly surprised when he saw Dale’s signature.

Unable to contain his curiosity any longer, Justin ventured into the northern hallway and tried the first door. The room was obviously for Gus. A bedroom decorated with a younger person in mind, furnished to appeal to a boy, with a modest bathroom attached.

The second door revealed a small gym. There were basic weights and a bench, a couple of mats, a balance ball, a treadmill and stationary bike, as well as a compact four-sided weight training unit. _Fuck, Brian wouldn’t have to go out to a gym with all this. That had to put a crimp into his tricking._ Except, there had been no evidence of Brian tricking the whole time they’d been together this year. Justin was sure it happened – Brian was a highly sexual individual. While the times they were together Justin was sure he was satisfied, there were several long stretches this year when they weren’t together. Plus, there was all the time Brian was spending in Pittsburgh – fuck, he owned Babylon, guys probably stilled lined up for the opportunity in the back room with the Stud of Liberty Avenue. Justin backed out of the room and shut the door.

The next room was similar to what Justin now thought of as “Brian’s room” at the apartment. It was evident that this was Brian’s home office come library. He’d installed a wall unit similar to the one at the apartment, but this one was less traditional – more modern. Justin tested a cabinet door to see if, as he suspected, Brian had included the Murphy bed. He had. 

The home office was larger than the apartment bedroom, allowing for a small couch and some comfortable side chairs. The two remaining walls were bookcases housing a fairly substantial library, pieces of sculpture and other art. 

The next door revealed a utility room, including a washer and dryer, sink, storage and seasonal items, including two Cervélo touring bikes, and a smaller bike for Gus. He smiled as he noted the neatly lined up Louis-Vuitton collection gracing lined shelving high overhead.

The final room was sizable with a very nice bath attached, but was otherwise empty. It seemed odd, the rest of the rooms were fully furnished, why leave this one bare? Justin closed the door.

While he wanted to explore further, Justin’s stomach rumbled, sending him back to the kitchen. He grabbed a glass of milk, and glancing at the clock on the microwave – 4:42pm – decided it was a perfectly reasonable time for cookies. He opened the bag of Oreos and counted out 4. He tested several drawers before finding a zip bag large enough to store the open bag of cookies.

Snacks in hand, he continued his self-guided tour, passing through the small alcove along the south wall which led to a hall where the elevator and stairwell could be accessed. Beyond the alcove was a wall of windows looking out to the rooftop terrace and to downtown. Justin was excited to finally see these in the light of day.

It was obvious some thought had been put into the window wall. The tall wall was made of thick pivoting glass that could be opened up during good weather, and locked tightly in place during poor. Beyond the window wall was a three-season room area with a fireplace, dining table, as well as comfortable chairs and a chaise. A sloped roof and another wall of glass gave the room a “porch” feel.

The terrace had a small wall fountain and basin on the east wall to help diffuse the noise of traffic. Trees that would certainly grow larger in coming years were planted in large planters and strategically placed along the slate flagstones. Other box planters lined the south wall creating a barrier to any who might lean over too far. All-weather wrought iron chairs and benches peppered the area, and adjacent to the west side of the building was a hot tub Justin had failed to notice in his previous visits.

_Interesting!_ Justin smiled – something else to explore tonight. An unexpected wind whipped up and fluttered the silk robe Justin wore, reminding him that fall had come to New York. He returned into the penthouse, making sure to secure both sets of doors behind him. He crossed to the sink and rinsed his glass before returning to the bedroom.

His day old clothes, sweat and paint stained, looked no more inviting now than when he’d finished his shower. He picked up his clothes and took them to the utility room. He was sure Brian wouldn’t mind him using the washing machine.

Laundry started, he went to Brian’s huge walk-in closet. He’d never been inside. The impressive line of Brian’s suits from his vantage point on the bed was enough to put Justin off from exploring Brian’s ode to labels. But now he had a reason – he needed clothes. Surely Brian had some sweats and an old T-shirt he could borrow, at least until his clothes dried.

Aside from the row of suits that rivaled any shop on Saville Row, there were silk shirts arranged by color and dry cleaned shirts neatly folded lining a shelf. More casual shirts and jeans were arranged in a double hung section and along the floor was Brian’s extensive collection of Prada and Gucci footwear. Along the back wall was clear storage for sweaters arranged by color and weight. Beneath the sweater storage were built in drawers – Justin headed there, he was sure that socks, underwear and workout gear had to be stored there.

Justin was halfway to the built in drawers when he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Something wasn’t right. He raised his hand to smooth along the back of his neck and his eyes took in the other half of the closet. It was empty.  
…

“What do you think it means, Daph?”

Daphne shook her head – some days she wondered how the boy scored 1500 on his SATs. “Duh, he’s saving the space for someone.”

“Yeah, but who?”

“Tell me you aren’t this dense! You!”

“Oh, I don’t think so.”

“Justin, do you really think Brian’s involved with anyone else?”

“Well, no, but…”

“No buts! We continue with our plan – granted it won’t be as easy to hide your bringing your shit to his place without being able to blend it with his stuff – WAIT! The spare room! You can just start stowing stuff in there.”

“I don’t know, Daph…”

“Think about it – I bet Brian never even goes in there. You said you’ve never seen him go in Gus’ room.”

“That’s different.”

“Look, you have three months left before he puts the co-op on the market…”

“Actually, there’s less time than that.”

“What?! He’s throwing you out?”

“No, I’m sub-letting it. I’m going to buy Brian out. Mom’s helping me with the paperwork for the mortgage. Since I’m a first time homeowner, there’s a bunch of tax breaks, and despite Brian thinking I’m a destitute artist, I actually have a fair amount saved up – at least enough for a down payment. Cara and Dale are going to rent it from me – it will cover the maintenance and a portion of the mortgage. They got engaged over Labor Day Weekend.”

“Who get’s engaged for Labor Day?”

“Daph! Anyway, I have it worked out, I should be moved in here by the end of October, Thanksgiving at the latest.”

“So what were you queening out about then?”

“Well, it just isn’t going to be as easy as we planned.”  
~>~>~>~>~>~>

TBC


	6. Trick or Treat

**Trick or Treat  
 _October 2011_**

The door to the Penthouse was open and Brian’s briefcase and preferred Louis Vuitton roll aboard suitcase were lining the wall of the entrance.

“Brian?” Justin called out as he entered the penthouse.

“In here.” Brian’s voice floated in from the bedroom.

Brian was seated on the bed, a pen in hand and a legal pad perched on his knee. “Yeah, got it… and James is going to be here when? …yeah, I should be able to make my flight… Call Cynthia and let her and Ted know I’m on my way… no, I’m not sure when I’ll be back… Thursday, maybe Friday… I don’t know how long it’s going to take to straighten out this mess. Just keep in touch with Cynthia and Ted’s assistants, and push everything to next week. If that’s not possible, get with Cynthia’s assistant and schedule conference calls for anything that can’t wait… Thanks, Meagan… I’ll touch base with you once I get to the airport and have cleared security.” Brian hung up the phone. He closed his eyes. “Fuck!”

Justin moved to the bed and lightly rubbed Brian’s shoulders. He tried a bit of humor. “Going on a trip?”

Brian rolled his neck forward so Justin could deepen the kneading massage. “Phil, the art director at Kinnetik in Pittsburgh is in the hospital. His not so Smart car ended up sandwiched between two SUVs in a 14 car pile up on 376. He’s going to be out of work for at least two months. We’ve got several major projects that are wrapping up and no one to run the art department.”

“Can’t you get someone from here?”

“Part of the problem of having a New York agency is that no one thinks being temporary Art Director in the Pitts is an advance in their career.”

“Well, I wasn’t really suggesting you _ask_ them. Can’t you just press someone into service?”

“I’ve pressed three of them – by the end of the week, their going to be begging me for the opportunity to be the interim Art Director for Kinnetik Pittsburgh. But right now I’m rushing to catch a flight.”

Brian rose from the bed and grabbed Justin by the hand, pulling him to the alcove where his luggage was. 

Justin figured he was anxious to lock up and get down to his car service. But Brian stopped at the sleek console below the mirror in the alcove and pulled out a hidden drawer.

“I meant to give this to you another time… But I don’t know how long I’m going to be gone and… well, I’d really like it if you were here when I get back.” Brian folded a set of keys into Justin’s palm. “You already have a key to the building. The smaller key is for the elevator to open on this floor after hours, the larger two keys are for the knob and the deadbolt for the penthouse. The security code is the same as the loft…”

“9355”

Brian leaned in and kissed Justin. “Good boy! You remembered.” He hesitated. “Please don’t forget to set it.”

Justin laughed. “If I do, will I have to run away to Pittsburgh?”

“Somehow, I can’t think of a greater punishment.” Brian smiled and swooped in for another kiss. “Call me tonight, I haven’t had phone sex in a while.”

“Oh Mr. Kinney, you are a charmer!” Justin laughed and pushed Brian to the elevator. He waited until doors opened and Brian was in, before turning back to the penthouse. He shut the door and bolted it.

~>~>~>~>~>

With Brian out of town for at least the rest of the week, Justin convinced Cara and Dale it was their duty to help him move his stuff to the Penthouse. He reminded them the sooner he moved out, the sooner they could move in together. Hiring a moving truck mid-week was remarkably easy, and Dale was able to find two reliable guys from his gym to help with lifting and hauling. Packing took the greatest amount of effort.

With the last of the boxes safely stored in the spare room, Justin unpacked what he could in the empty drawers of the walk in closet. He used the closet in Gus’ room to hang the few items he had that required hangers. Justin hung his coats and jackets – not that there were many of them, he wasn’t Brian after all – in the dark recesses at the ends of the main closet off the alcove, which was situated next to a half bath. He left a couple of pairs of shoes at the studio, more in Gus’ closet, and one pair in Brian’s walk-in closet.

The three friends dropped exhausted into the chairs and couch in the living area.

“Ugh!” Cara rubbed her backside. “This has to be the most beautiful but uncomfortable furniture.”

Justin laughed, “I know. I’ve been looking at the Maurice Villency website. I’m think I’m going to get Brian a new sofa for Christmas.”

“Uh, maybe you might want to start with something a bit smaller,” Cara suggested.

“Hey!” Dale picked up his sculpture. “I didn’t know Brian bought this.”

“Before everyone starts getting too comfortable – Chinese or Thai?”

“Both.” Cara and Dale chimed.

Justin rolled his eyes.

~>~>~>~>~>

With the crisis in Pittsburgh averted, at least temporarily, Brian felt he could return to New York.

He returned late Thursday night and was pleased to find Justin curled up in his bed fast asleep.

~>~>~>~>~>

The keys to the penthouse was a boon. Justin was ready to move full speed ahead. But Daphne suggested taking things slower might be a better method.

He’d reviewed a timeline with Daphne. He’d add one item per day to the closet and see if Brian noticed anything.

And so it began.

~>~>~>~>~>~>

TBC


	7. Oh, There’s No Place Like Home for the Holidays

**Oh, There’s No Place Like Home for the Holidays  
 _November 2011_**

November found Brian battling between amused and confused.

On November first Brian received the co-op buy out documents signed, along with a sizable check. _What the fuck?_

When Justin arrived at the penthouse that night he was in a good mood.

“Did you get the check and the paperwork for the co-op?”

“Yes…” Brian wasn’t sure exactly what was going on.

“Oh good. I was thinking I’d make steaks for dinner tonight – that okay with you?”

Brian just nodded. The rest of the night he expected Justin to say something… but he didn’t. They just continued on as they had the previous month. Brian didn’t understand it, but he let it go. Daphne wasn’t returning his calls.

Brian knew that Justin had put some things in the walk-in closet drawers, but somehow Justin’s side of the closet was self-populating. The hanging items seemed to increase by daily. Brian chose not to say anything, and Justin didn’t either. 

It all reminded Brian a bit of their earlier days together. Justin never really moved in so much as his shit seemed to accumulate at the loft. It would arrive in a duffle or his messenger bag. But here at the Penthouse Justin would arrive in the clothes he wore at the studio, take a shower and he’d have clean clothes. His dirty clothes would go in the laundry and Brian’s cleaning woman would wash them and add them to the rest in the closet.

By mid-November Justin had a made a fair dent in the open space in the walk-in closet and moved to other areas of the penthouse. Brian started to notice as items began appearing – sketch books and pencils seemed to gravitate to flat surfaces in the living area, office and kitchen. A modest number of framed pictures of himself and Justin from earlier days appeared on side tables and shelves along with pictures of the gang, an action figure of Rage, and some pictures of Gus he hadn’t seen before. Small figures and sculptures all found homes throughout the living areas. And Brian couldn’t object – it all blended easily and tastefully with the existing furnishings. 

As the month passed the penthouse evolved from Brian’s space into his and Justin’s home.

The week before Thanksgiving the catalogs started to arrive. They had Justin’s name and the address of the building – but a floor was suspiciously absent. Brian was amused. Some piqued his interest – Maurice Villency, B&B Italia, Euro Moda, other reflected what he considered Justin’s lack of experience, like the Ikea catalog – as if he’d buy anything from Ikea. 

Brian was on the couch flipping through the Maurice Villency catalog noting the pages where the corners were flipped down when Justin came in. As usual he toed off his sneakers in the front hall and placed them outside the door.

“Expecting the elves to polish them for you?”

Justin laughed, Brian seemed in a good mood. “No, the elves are busy making toys for the good boys and girls. If you’re lucky you may get a choo-choo train instead of coal this year.”

“Ah, but coal can be quite valuable – or has it escaped you that the temperature has dropped? Have you given any further thought about going to Pittsburgh with me for Thanksgiving?”

Justin plopped down in chair opposite where Brian sat on the sofa. “I’d love to, but what do we tell the gang? My mother I can handle – she’s resigned herself to our having an undefined, unconventional relationship.” Justin watched Brian closely _Hmmm, he didn’t even flinch at the “R” word_ , “but Deb? I’m not sure how I’d hold up to her inquisition, then there’s Michael…”

“You’re going to have to face the music soon enough.”

“Why?”

“They’re all planning on being here for New Year’s Eve.”

“What?!”

“Oh, did Daphne forget to mention it to you in your weekly call?” 

Justin wasn’t sure what that was all about, but he quickly recovered. “I’ll just go back to the apartment for the week.”

“Did you forget you sublet your apartment to Cara and Dale? Dale’s parents are coming in from Omaha.”

Justin narrowed his gaze on Brian. _Just how much did Brian know?_

“I know everything.”

“You couldn’t possibly…”

“Oh, and you’re going to have to move your shit out of your room and make some decisions about decorating. I have Grace on retainer for that room, but she needs your input. You’ll have to move your stuff out of Gus’ closet, too. He, JR and the munchers will be here for Christmas.”

“Impossible!”

“Nothing’s impossible, Sunshine. It seems true muncher love can conquer all – or at least that’s the word for the Holiday season.”

“Not them.”

“Well, it has taken us most of the year.”

“But… but…”

“Yes?” Brian gave him a sardonic smile.

“I hate you!” Justin stomped by Brian who deftly grabbed him and wrestled him to the sofa.

Brian lay on top of Justin and looked down into deep blue eyes. “No you don’t, you love me. _You sooooo love me._ ”

“Let me up!”

“Not until we finish our plans for the holidays. Now I have two refundable first class tickets leaving Tuesday evening or we can drive out Wednesday.”

“Let me up!”

Brian relented and let Justin up, but not before he kissed him soundly. “By the way Grace is coming by tomorrow at 10:30am, do you think you can be out of bed and dressed by then?”

Justin gave him a dirty look and stomped off to Gus’ room to call Daphne.

Daphne put the phone on speaker and continued working on her manicure while Justin blew off some steam.

“It will be nice to see you for Thanksgiving…”

“I’m not going to Pittsburgh.”

“Sure you are, you’re mom would miss you terribly, I’m sure Brian’s already told her. Look at the bright side, you guys will be staying at the loft so you don’t have to worry about hearing her and Tucker bumping uglies.” Daphne was sure Justin would have a hissy-fit over that one – if only she had thought to conference Brian in on the call. “Like I was saying, I was thinking I’d have to wait until New Year’s Eve to see you. Brian says I can stay at your place on the Murphy Bed – I can’t wait to see the place. Plus, the Murphy Bed, it will be like all those black and white films from the 40s.”

“Well, that’s where Brian is wrong. Dale’s parents are using Brian’s office.”

“Why aren’t they staying with Dale and Cara?”

“They are – what are you talking about?”

“Brian said I could stay with you and him. He said I’d have to use the Murphy Bed in the home office, since Linds and Mel and Gus and JR were going to be there as well.”

“Grrrrr!” Justin threw himself on Gus’ bed. “I have no control over my life any more!”

“What made you think you ever did?”

“Daphne, please be serious for like five minutes. My life has been turned upside down.”

“Justin, what was your objective in September?”

“Get Brian back.”

“You have him.”

“No, Daphne, he has me – he always has me.”

“Really? Because the way I see it, it’s you who has always had him. Think about it. The man moved to New York to be with you. He bought a building to be near you. He created an incredible home for you to share. He gave you the option to opt out. He offered you independence and freedom when he sold you his share of the co-op. And let’s not forget all the things he did for you before _you_ moved to New York. Justin can’t you see he’s nuts for you. You’re it for him. If not you, it’s no one.”

Justin wanted to tell Daphne that Kinnetik New York was why Brian was in New York. He scrubbed his eyes with his palms and miserably wailed “I’m so confused.”

“Oh for god’s sake, talk to the man. I’ll see you Thursday at Emmett and Drew’s.”

“What? Emmett and Drew’s? I thought Debbie…”

“Change of plans, Emmett and Drew have a lot more room. Debbie gets to rule the kitchen, but the rest of us don’t have to be so cramped. C’mon Justin, you’ll get to enjoy yourself. I think Hunter’s coming with his girlfriend – you know how much you’ll enjoy needling him.”

Justin laughed. “Okay, maybe. Brian did say he had first class tickets. Besides, maybe I can give him a little hell.”

When Justin emerged from Gus’ room a while later with the remainder of his hanging clothes, Brian offered to help him.

“I called in some Thai – it should be here soon. Would you like to join me for dinner?”

Justin let a small smile grace his lips and nodded. Another plan started to formulate. “First class seats, huh?”

“You know me, only the best.”

~>~>~>~>~>~>  
 ** _Pittsburgh, November 25, 2011_**

“So back together… again?” Michael offered Justin a beer. Surprisingly, the words were said without animosity.

“Yeah. One last time.” 

Michael smiled. “I’m glad. Brian seems really happy. You’re good for him.”

“I’m glad you feel that way, Michael.” Justin waited for Michael to take a pull off his beer. “He was afraid that you were going to give him a hard time about being his best man.”

Michael tried to contain the beer in his mouth, but ended up in a coughing fit as the beer went down the wrong way. 

Ben join them, patting Michael on the back. “Whoa there, Michael. You okay?”

“You… you and Brian? You.. you’re…”

“Oh wow, Michael, you didn’t know.” Justin’s face was the picture of innocence. “I just assumed, you being his best friend and all he would have said something. After all New Year’s is just around the corner…”

“That’s imposs…” Michael blustered.

But Justin went right on without skipping a beat. “Brian has it all planned out. You know him. I wanted to wait a while, but we’re both in the same city now and it has been legal for nearly six months. Please don’t tell him I told you – I know he wanted to ask you himself.”

Michael nodded weakly.

“Hon? You look a little gray.” Ben took Michael’s hand and rubbed his shoulder. “Why don’t you sit down.”

“Hey! There’s Daphne – I haven’t seen her in like forever. You going to be okay, Michael?”

Ben motioned Justin on and he moved to the where Daphne was shrugging out of her coat.

“Score one.” Justin whispered in Daphne’s ear as he took her coat and went to put it in the bedroom with the rest.

“Damn, I missed it. There was construction and I got lost.”

“Don’t worry, I promise there’s more to come. Quick, we don’t want to miss it – I’m sure Michael won’t be able to keep a secret, but damn it’s going to be fun watching.”

~>~>~>~>~>~>

It was almost cruel to see how hard Michael was trying to get Brian to talk about his upcoming marriage. Emmett had strict seating assignments for everyone and woe be the person who fucked with his plans. Michael had wanted to sit next to Brian so he could be discreet – or at least as discreet as any Novotny at the table could be.

Brian and Justin were seated at the middle of the long table with Ben and Michael across from them. Ted, Blake, Daphne and Molly were on the end where Emmett sat and Hunter, his girlfriend Amanda were at the opposite end with Drew, along with Debbie and Carl and Jennifer and Tucker.

The turkey had been carved and everyone had gotten in a few bites when Debbie stood up with her wine glass.

“A toast! To Brian and Justin! Sunshine we’re so happy to have you back. Brian finally got his ass in gear and brought you home. Our family is nearly all together again. And at New Year’s, in New York with our whole family together for such a special occasion – the circle will be complete. To Brian and Justin!”

A cheer went up from the table; Michael took on a distinct green tinge.

“Mikey, you feeling okay?” Brian’s words penetrated the haze surrounding Michael.

“New Year’s – special occasion?”

“Yeah, it will be really wonderful to have everyone together in New York. I can’t wait to see Gus, I’m sure you’ll be happy to see JR since you’ll miss her at Christmas.”

“But…”

“It’s all set. There’s a great hotel right around the corner from our apartment. Less than a five minute walk.”

“Is that it?”

“Well, Justin and I did have a little surprise planned. I could tell you, but what kind of surprise would that be. Let’s just say, you’ll want to bring your best suit.”

Justin bit his lip and leaned into Daphne, hiding his face in her curls and muffling his laugh in her ear.

Ben tried to draw Justin into the conversation by asking him about his year. “I understand you’ve had a very successful year with your painting.”

“Yes, I’ve been honored to work with quite a few really good interior designers, as well as a few galleries. All of us who share studio space together have been part of group shows. Plus, I’ve donate a few works to the local Gay and Lesbian center.”

Brian rolled his eyes. “It appears that even in New York there is a place for the less fortunate gays to meet those even less fortunate than themselves.”

A chorus of “Brian”s rose up from the table.

“Well, actually, the three works I donated were for different benefits for the Marriage Equality act.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t enough he was out in the cold gathering signatures.” Brian added.

“Well, now it is law – and it benefits everyone, including you.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Brian swooped in for a kiss.

“So you worked on the campaign?” Ben asked wanting to know more. Justin nodded. “It must have been exciting when it passed.”

“It was, but what makes it all worth while is having someone to share the celebration with.”

“It coincided with Pride, talk about a train wreck.” Brian snarked.

Michael perked up, here was the true Brian.

“It wasn’t enough that it passed, every queer had to race right down to city hall to get a license.”

“Not everyone.” Justin corrected

Brian smiled, and patted Justin’s cheek. “Not everyone.”

This confused Michael even further. “So are you saying that they shouldn’t have signed the Marriage Equality Act?”

“Fuck, no. Queers have every right to be as miserable as straight folks.” Brian raised his glass. “To fags and marriage, at least New York doesn’t discriminate.”

But Michael couldn’t leave well enough alone. “If you were getting married – not that I’m saying you are planning to or anything…”

“Michael…” Ben tried to warn him. 

“But if you were… would you have a best man?”

Brian mellowed by the wine and friends, and fending off a tryptophan coma, fell right into the trap. “Michael, if I were ever to get married, you would be my best man.” He saluted Michael with his glass and drank deeply.

Justin leaned over to Daphne. “Oh please, tell me you got that!”

Daphne tapped her phone leaning against her water glass. “Hook, line and sinker.”

~>~>~>~>~>

Later as they were getting ready for bed at the loft Brian asked, “Did Michael see a little off to you tonight?”

Justin smiled. “I think he’s getting excited about New Year’s Eve.”

“Yeah, that must be it. I don’t think he’s seen JR in a few months. She’s probably growing like a weed right now.”

TBC


	8. He Knows When You’ve Been Bad or Good

**He Knows When You’ve Been Bad or Good**   
_December 2011_

Justin couldn’t believe the free hand Brian gave him in decorating the penthouse. With such faith, Justin had proceded with great restraint. Grace connected Justin with a great couple of guys who helped him string lights along the trees and planter boxes.

In the living area a six foot blue spruce in a planter on casters was decorated with beautiful blown glass ornaments and pine cone shaped lights. After the holidays, the tree would move to the rooftop terrace.

Justin skirted the planter with red felt leaving lots of room for presents. Since it was just the two of them until ‘the family’ arrived _en force_ the following week, they were able to relax and enjoy each other.

Justin had decided that purchasing a sectional without input from Brian was probably unwise. Instead he created a shadow box of the living area with hand made 3-D paper furniture so Brian could try out several designs and arrangements before choosing exactly what he wanted. 

Justin had already found a home for the existing sofa in Brian’s office. Grace had been decorating a suite of offices for Ted and Cynthia to use when in town and had been having a difficult time finding the right seating. When Justin suggested the sofa in Brian’s office would be perfect, Grace agreed.

“But he’d never agree to having the same couches in both offices.”

“I have the perfect sofa for Brian’s office.” Justin assured her.

Justin had found a couple of other items he thought Brian might enjoy as well. A baseball mitt and ball to share with Gus, and tickets to see Pittsburgh Pirates play the Mets, and the Yankees play the Toronto Blue Jays. Something Brian and Gus could plan to do together and no matter who won, they could claim their team won.

**The Last Time**   
**_December 25, 2011_ **

Christmas Day was a lazy day with much of the morning was spent in bed. Finally, when the phone calls started, Brian and Justin rousted themselves so they could video conference with Gus and JR.

All calls completed and bellies full of French pastries that Justin had managed to hide from Brian before surprising him for breakfast, the men reclined on the uncomfortable couch. Brian shifted and Justin took the opportunity to slide to the thick rug and lean back against the couch.

“You know…”

“hmmm?”

“This rug is more comfortable than that couch.”

Brian shifted to play with Justin’s sweater, “Quite possibly.”

“And…”

“…and?”

“There isn’t really enough room for two… to…”

“…tutu?”

Justin gave Brian’s hanging arm a shove.

“There isn’t enough room for two people to…”

“Fuck? Suck?”

“Make love!”

“Well, I’ll agree with all that. Of course, we’ve done it in less hospitable places.”

“Yeah, well it’s not your back or backside being tortured.”

“Hmmm,” Brian reached across to the catalogs stacked up on the coffee table. “I don’t suppose there might be some other suitable couch in one of these catalogs.”

“Well, now that you mention it. I did see a few I thought might suit your place.” Justin scrabbled across the floor to the Christmas Tree.

“Our place.” Brian murmured.

Justin intent on gathering up his gift for Brian missed the correction.

“Here!” Justin presented Brian with the brightly packaged box.

Brian regarded the box a moment. “I feel so embarrassed, I didn’t get you a big gift.” Brian rose and crossed to the tree. He reached in between the branches and plucked out a plain manila envelope. “Uh, it isn’t wrapped up fancy like this.”

“That’s okay, you open yours first.” Justin set aside the envelope for the time being. 

Brian took out a small pen knife and sliced the ribbon. Using the blade he carefully freed the paper from the box. “Hmmm,” Brian looked at the box. The corrugated cardboard was marked with blue ink spelling “Rice-A-Roni”. “Somehow this isn’t what I’d consider a San Francisco treat.”

Justin smiled. “Open it!”

There was tape across the top, when Brian cut it, the box fell apart and the sides fell away. The little 3-D furnishings that Justin had made, had clumped to a corner. Brian looked at it closely.

“There’s too much furniture.”

“No, there’s just a lot of different furniture to try out.” Justin grabbed one of the catalogs behind him. “See,” he pointed to the picture in the catalog of the oval couch that reminded him of a giant clamshell. “Here,” he pointed to the model in the corner of the room. “And see these?” Justin pointed to two small chairs. “These are those!” He pointed to the chairs on the opposite side of the carpet. We can look at the different sofas and you can pick out the one you like best. I’ve already tested them for comfort.

That got Brian’s attention. “With who?” he asked in a deadly tone.

“With Daphne.” Justin laughed at the implication.

“Something tells me we’ll have to do our own testing.”

“Well, I think they have rules about sex in the showroom, but I’m sure you could get the sales clerk to look the other way.”

“Since when did you get so shy?” Brian grabbed at Justin’s crotch before returning his attention to the scale model. 

They spent over an hour playing with the floor plan and trying out different configurations. In the end they settled on two sectional models they liked, but Brian still wanted to go to the showroom and see them up close.

With his back against the couch and Brian’s arm around his shoulders, Justin was happy and contented leaning in to rest his head on Brian’s shoulder. 

“Hey,” Brian nudged Justin. “You aren’t falling asleep on me are you? You didn’t open your present.” Brian plucked the envelope from the coffee table.

Justin opened the envelope. It looked like a bunch of legal documents. He pulled out the pile of papers.

The first was the deed to the penthouse made out in both their names. Justin straightened up against the sofa. There was another deed for the studio in Justin’s name alone and for one of the retail units on the ground floor in Justin’s name as well.

“No Brian, it’s too much.”

“No it’s not, it won’t be paid off for another 15 – 20 years and you’ll have to contribute. Of course, it’s null and void unless you sign the final document.”

Justin flipped to the last page.

_Application for Marriage License – City of New York_

“Actually, it’s a lot faster if we fill it out online, but I figured if I stuff an iPad in there, you’d get lost on some tangent and never get around to it.”

“You want to…?”

“Well, it is legal. And I’d hate if you camped out in the cold gathering all those signatures for nothing.”

“But what about…”

“ _It’s only time?_ I’m tired of time. I’m not waiting for the next time. I want this to be the last time. The last time we part ways not knowing where we’re going and if we’ll be together. The last time other people and other circumstances dictate our lives. The last time we’re apart for more than a business trip. I want to go to bed with you and wake up with you… plus, it wouldn’t hurt to fuck a little more with Mikey’s brain and the rest of the family.

“If we get our paperwork in tonight, we can have our license by Friday. And believe it or not, your friends from the Gay and Lesbian Center have recommended a minister to do the deed. So what do you say, Sunshine? Want to ring in the New Year as Mr. and Mr.?”

~>~>~>~>~>  
 **The Last Time  
 _December 31, 2011_**

Brian straightened Justin’s bow and rubbed up against him. “You sure you don’t want to do it one last time as a single man?”

“Brian, they’re all waiting out there. Besides, I think we’ve done enough last times as single men – in the shower, in the hot tub – I still can’t believe Emmett didn’t see us! In the closet – and that one is going to take years of therapy to unravel. Enough! I want to get married – NOW!”

“You’re so demanding.”

“Hmmm, perhaps I should top you one last time as a single man and that would…”

Brian grabbed Justin’s hand and they burst through the door into the living area filled with family and friends.

~>~>~>~>~>~>

Emmett tapped his fork against the Waterford Crystal flute. The clear tone quieted the crowd. “A toast to the happy couple! Uh… where are they? Has anyone seen Brian and Justin?”

Debbie looked up from the buffet table where she’d just snagged a shrimp in the cocktail sauce. “The last time I saw them Brian said something about his first time to see fireworks on New Year’s Eve. He must be out of his mind, the paper said they don’t set them off until midnight.”  
~>~>~>~>~>~>  
The End

**Author's Note:**

> As always, reviews are welcome, appreciated, begged for...


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